


Campus Hearts

by RollingUnderTheRadar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, M/M, Work Contains Fan(s) or Fandom(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-02 09:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11506584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RollingUnderTheRadar/pseuds/RollingUnderTheRadar
Summary: In sunny Florida on Garrison Academy campus Keith Kogane is a fresh junior at the college and finds himself having to share his house with three new freshmen including an oddly helpful Lance McClain. They both balance jobs with their classes, but another thing piles itself onto Keith's plate; a sudden fondness of his photography professor Shiro. Keith turns to Lance for help in his problem and Lance becomes the best Wing-man he could be.





	1. Home

Lance could feel his heart slamming against his ribcage, dying to rip into the pristine white letter in his brother's hands.

“Manolo, who’s the white one from?” Lance asked, shaking. He knew it would be coming any day and was almost scared to open it, sinking into the worn leather couch.

He picked it out of the pink parking tickets (no doubt it was for Lance as well) and the bills and junk mail and scanned it. “It doesn't say- It’s for you though _hermano_.” He put everything on the counter but threw the letter to Lance, diving into the fridge. He held it like it was a bomb ready to detonate but the wax stamped seal emblazoned with the moon and the large letters GA made Lance clutch it tight. He couldn't open it yet. “ _Mama, Papa! Esta aquí_!” It’s here. He called into the house and a panicked yell answered him.

His mother came down the creaking yellow painted stairs, face flushed and a twist of excitement and worry, “ _Dios mío_!” she panted, “ _Open it mijo_!”

“But what about papa?” he paused.

“He’s at work! I want to know!” She looked like she would take the letter if Lance didn't open it now.

Lance hesitated but then he ripped the seal off and pulled the letter out and he started reading the crisp document, “Dear Mr. McClain, thank you for applying to Garrison Academy, we would like to congratulate you on your success and welcome you to our academy…” he whispered the last word and couldn't read any more, the words blurring together as tears filled his eyes. His mother cried out in joy, tackling her son in a hug. “ _Ay, mijo_ …”

Lance couldn't stop himself and he whooped with laughter. He finally pulled back and noticed the second page underneath titled ‘billing’. The amount written was enough to make Lance’s breath leave him. But he looked down and saw that all the expenses… “They're all payed?”  
His mother wiped his eyes and then her own with a soft little tinkling laugh and pulled the letter away, “We wanted to surprise you, Lance…”

“You and _papa_?”

“For you, _mijo_ , for your dream.” She took his hand as he began to speak, “No backsies. Go pack your things, _mi amour. Celebramos esta noche_!” We celebrate tonight.

Keith

Keith pulled his rumbling black Plymouth Road Runner into the bumpy cobble driveway of the familiar 4 bedroom dorm. Over the summer, the garden had become overgrown, the few rosebushes needed heading, the oak tree in front grown about another foot. He breathed in the warm, green, flowery air and the tension unfurled from his shoulders as he played with a fine gold chain around his neck. A meowing in the black crate beside him pulled him back to the car. He picked up the crate and the duffle bag next to him and made to the front, and was met by little old Mrs. Xing, the landlord of the house.

She broke into a squinty little smile at the sight of the young man, his too-long raven hair tied in a small ponytail. “Keith! Back for another year, huh Nánhái?” Keith stooped and gave her a little hug, her 4’5 making his 5’5 look tall.

“Yes ma’am.” He liked Mrs. Xing, and had known her only for two years, but she felt like a mother to him.

“Oh good! You promise not to let your grades fall this year?”

“I promise, Mrs. Xing.”

She nodded with a tinkly little laugh and waved, heading home. Keith made sure she got into her son’s car safely before heading inside. He opened the cages door and Belle, the small black cat stepped out lazily and sprawled onto the dark wood floors in a large sun puddle. Keith grabbed the last of his stuff out of his car and each time he brought it into his room upstairs, he gathered all the house in his mind, elated to be back. All the plants he left here seemed in great condition, watered and loved, their greens and splashes of color giving the beige and black house a quirk he just couldn't forget. As Keith finally sat down on the old brown leather couch with Belle in his lap, he breathed in the air of the house, and the house sighed with him. He scratched the snoozing cats head and reminded himself that this year, he wouldn't have the house to himself, and three new freshman would be joining him this Thursday.

“Well, Belle, guess we’re gonna have to share this big old place.” he said. “But then again, maybe I need it… I am talking to a cat.” he smiled. He moved the cat off of him and she let out a pathetic and grumpy half-meow and Keith stood in the big echoing house. “Cleaning time I guess.”

 

Keith had watched the sun go down after basically scrubbing the whole house, and he only realised the intoxicating smell of the cleaning products as he sat on the wrought iron balcony outside of his room, and he took in a grateful huff of fresh air. Belle had apparently had enough of the cleaner smell too as she was down in the garden, chasing the bobbing and weaving fireflies that barely illuminated the garden in their flight. Keith finally took out his earbuds to listen to the calm and quiet sounds of Florida, the Beatles ‘Blackbird’ still playing faintly through the discarded black buds in his lap. The fireflies hummed peacefully, only overpowered by Belle’s skittering chases. Cars drove down the street periodically, only a tough-ass on a motorcycle disrupting the calm night. It was chilly for Florida, but still warm enough to let sweat form under Keith's bangs. He had gone out earlier to get some kind of welcome gift for the newbies and ended up getting them little dry erase boards with a pack of markers and headphones and once he got to know them and what they needed, he would get them. Keith didn't want to seem the cold shouldering junior but rather an upperclassman the newbies could trust, a possible friend? He found himself smiling at the thought.

Lance

 

Lance stood in front of the dorm assignment boards, searching for his name. He knew he wouldn't be in the big frat-houses, but when he didn't see his name anywhere else, he checked there too, but nowhere did he see Lance McClain. Most had cleared out except for a gingery blond shorty sipping on a large bubble tea and a big guy munching on a burrito. Lance smiled at them when they saw him. “Are you guys not on here either?” Lance asked.

The short one shrugged, “Can't find our names, must not have been put in any dorms.” they elbowed the big guy, “Maybe we’ll just go live with your grandma, huh, Hunk?”

He panicked a bit, almost dropping his burrito. “No way, dude, I love her and all, but she’s crazy. She’ll think we’re cats or something and try to dress us up in little outfits and make us dance the hula.”

“Oh calm down, I was joking. Anyways, hi. I’m Kate Gunderson, but please, call me Pidge.”

Lance shook Pidge’s hand, hers cold from holding the boba. “Lance McClain, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Hunk, Hunk Garett.” he shook Lance's hand too.

“But for cereal, where are we supposed to be roomed?” Pidge was scanning the documents again.

“You all might be on here!” They all turned at the new voice and it was Dean Allura, holding a paper in her hands. She was pretty, but intimidating. “Lance, Hunk, Kate?” SHe checked.

“Yep, yep, and yep.”

“All right, you're all with a Junior off campus.” She handed them the paper, the address circled in red at the top, “It’s only a few blocks. You can take the bus, students ride free.” She advised, watching a bus roll up as she waved.

“Thanks, Dean!” Pidge pulled her bag up and jogged to catch the bus, Hunk and Lance thanking Dean Allura as they hopped on, flashing their Student ID’s at the driver and taking a seat. Pidge chewed on a tapioca pearl and looked at the paper, “Hey! She even told us what stop to get off on, it's… 4 away!” She checked.

“She’s nice.” Lance noted, slumping in his seat.

“Yeah, -hey you want the rest?-” She sidetracked to hand the last of the boba to Hunk and continued, “but stay out of trouble cause as soon as you're on her bad side, you stay there.”

“How do you know so much about the school?” Hunk asked.

“My brother was a Junior here before… 3 more stops.” She answered quietly.

Hunk made panicked noise and Lance and Pidge both stared as he squeaked, “Theres like 7 pearls in my mouth what do i do?”

Pidge burst out laughing, making a few people glance, “Dude, just eat them!”

“THEY FEEL LIKE EGGS.”

“Oh quiznak, just swallow them. We’re almost there.” Pidge chuckled. Hunk resigned and swallowed a few, then cringed in on himself and swallowed the rest as they stepped off the bus, thanking the driver. Pidge looked around for the circled address and it was just across the street. It was a large two story traditional home with an attic sticking up and two balconies on opposite sides of the house, a large garden, and a sleek shiny muscle car stood still and silent in the driveway. Hunk whistled, “That must be Keith’s…” Lance nodded in appreciation.

Pidge lead the way inside, unlocking with a rather old golden key. They entered right into the living room and as Lance breathed in the green tones off the wood, he smelled it. Cat.

“You alright, buddy?” Hunk asked, seeing the darting expression on Lance's face.

“Do you guys see a cat?”

A door opened upstairs and a guy popped into view. He had the air of a Korean model, soft face, long hair just brushing his shoulders, thin body but curvy. He was in a pastel short sleeve and black Adida joggers, a black cat winding around his legs. “Yeah she’s up here. You guys must be my new roomies…” his voice was light but quiet, like he never talks unless he thinks he has to. He onced over the group and paused as he glanced Lance. “Why the look?”

Lance involuntarily sniffed, “I’m a bit allergic.”

Keith nodded and scooted the cat into the room he just exited with his foot. “I apologize, I wasn't told. How bad is your allergy?”

Pidge and Hunk excused themselves to the two rooms open on the bottom floor on both sides of the staircase as Keith came down. “Not bad, just a little snuffling and a… rash on my leg.” he admitted.

“Well hopefully Belle will stay in my room and won't bother you too much.” he shrugged. “I’m Keith Kogane.”

“Lance McClaine. Thanks for giving up the space.” They shook hands and Lance could see Keith was upset at how small his hand was compared to Lance’s. Keith looked up into Lance's face. “I’m 6’2.” he answered.

Keith muttered something that Lance couldn't catch, but then waved to the upstairs, “There's a room upstairs across from mine, blue walls, soft bed. Welcome home, I guess.”

\---

Lance had finally got himself settled in the faded blue room, the sliding glass door that lead onto a nice plant filled balcony was open, the warm Florida breeze warming the chilled room. He plugged in his laptop and let it slowly power on and then he realised he hadn't asked Keith for the wifi password. Lance opened the door and stretched across the hallway to knock on his door, “ _Oy hombre_?”

Keith cracked his door, “Yes?”

“Can I get the wifi?”

“Oh, sure. Lemme grab the sticky-note.” Keith disappeared, his door swinging open. His room was minimally decorated, the only big thing was a jumbo cat condo on the wall next to his bed. Snoozing on the top tower was a tiny black cat.

“Is that Belle?” Lance asked. At the sound of her name the cat rolled lazily and opened an eye to watch him.

Keith came back into the doorway with a single pink sticky-note, “Yep. Here’s the name and password, I’m sure Pidge and Hunk will want it later so you might want to drop it off down there after you're done.” he gave it to Lance and before he shut the door again, “Oh, I’ll be ordering Chinese. If you want anything just tell me, and ask them too.” and the door was shut again, the red rimmed white board on it bounced a bit before becoming still. Lance liked Keith, he was short and to the point, never beating around the bush and -as far as he could tell- Keith wasn't very loud. Lance stole into his room and put in the wifi password and did the same with his phone as he traveled downstairs. It was one basement with one green and one yellow bed that the other two residents occupied. Lance knocked on the wall to announce his presence.

“Hey buddy.” Pidge called,Lance didn't see her at first before she popped out behind a desk, “Just setting up my stuff. What’s up?”

“Wifi.” Lance wiggled the sticky-note. “Cool setup.” he remarked as Pidge snatched it and copied it down on her own whiteboard with a green rim. Hunk was putting up some posters of bands he didn't recognise and a little gaming banner of pixelated hearts. A laptop, a surface pro tablet, and a phone plugged in on his headboard. Pidge had a SuperComputer in the works of being put together with 5 different screens, a big black chair, and on their little deck that lead into the back yard was a sturdy hammock. Pidge also seemed to have a big ass phone and a laptop with a drawing tablet connected. It was open to a rough sketch of someone, almost looked like her.

“Thanks, OH! Settle a debate for us?” Pidge asked as she plugged in the various wires into the tower.

Lance sat in the big gaming chair, “Sure.”

Hunk took over, “I know Pidge is wrong! Does toilet paper -when you put it on the roll- does the flap thing go over or under?”

“Over, right?” Pidge chimed. Lance nodded and Pidge socked Hunk in the shoulder with a little shout, “HA! I told you! What monster puts the toilet paper under? You aren't allowed to replace the TP.” Pidge grinned and went back to plugging in her computer. “Anything else you needed?”

“Oh, Keith asked if you wanted anything to eat? He’s ordering chinese.”

“Aw, that's nice of him, just some eggrolls.” Pidge came out from behind the desk and powered the tower on.

“Eggrolls too, oh, and ask if he’ll get crab-cheese wontons?” Hunk slumped down after hanging his last poster, rubbing the punched arm.

“Sure thing.”  
Lance waved and made his way upstairs, almost bumping into Keith. “They want anything?”

“Eggrolls and crab-cheese wontons.” Lance relayed.

Keith moved away phone, “Anything for you?”

“Oh… orange chicken?”

Keith nodded and pulled back to the phone, “Hi! Delivery… Two orders of the orange chicken, two orders of eggrolls… yes. And an order of crab cheese wontons. 21550 Orange Blossom Grove. Thank you.”

Lance’s nose tickled a bit and he sneezed rather violently, making Keith jump. He looked down and Belle was winding through his legs.

“Belle!” Keith dropped his phone on the table and snatched up the kitty, “Sorry, Lance!” Keith jogged upstairs and shut the cat in his bedroom and came back downstairs.

“It's all good.”

“It seems like Belle likes you though so that might be a bit of a problem.” Keith admitted, peeking out of the window.

“Goodie, the only person to like me is one i'm allergic to.”

\---

Keith

Pidge and Hunk were downstairs, arguing about the dipping sauce they shared and upstairs, Keith and Lance sat quietly, Lance on the floor trying to pull apart his chopsticks, and Keith on the automan of the couch watching him. Lance was almost like a giant toddler, he had a bouncy energy about him. He was tanned, slim, and tall, his face somehow soft, but sharply angled.

“Help?” Lance shoved the chopsticks at Keith. He took them and made a big show of cracking them apart before handing them back. “Hey, I come from a giant Mexican family, I sometimes wouldn't even used a fork. It was a talent in my family that I could use these.” He snagged a piece of sauced chicken, rolled in in some rice and popped it in his mouth.

“Well, when Chinese take-out is all you can afford for three years, you should at least try to use ’em.” Keith shrugged.

It grew a little silent but then Lance asked in between bites, “You seem like you grew up in a weird place.”

Keith froze. “What do you mean by that?”

Lance looked a little embarrassed, “Nothing mean, I promise. It just… there's a lot about you that is a bit mismatched.” At Keith’s furrowed brow, Lance had to set down his chopsticks down. “I’m sorry, really! You just… i don't know… you're really interesting!”

Keith scoffed but he knew Lance didn't mean to offend. “Well, growing up in about 20 different households all 18 years of your life can make one seem ‘mismatched’...” Keith shoveled a piece of chicken in his mouth.

It was Lance's turn to freeze. “That must have been rough.”

“It was.” Keith thought it was time for him to dig on Lance. “How about your family life?”

 

He saw Lance think about it, but he started eating again. “Well, I lived with my _mama and papa_ , two _hermanas_ , and four older _hermanos_. My _mama_ and _papa_ ran away with each other young, about 16 and partied for a year in Tijuana then _mama_ got pregnant with my eldest brother.” Lance paused, and Keith was still, a ball of rice halfway to his mouth. “Then _mama_ though best to hop the border to _la tierra de la libertad_. They got there and had Christopher at the nearest hospital. They got a house in Texas, had my brothers and a sister then me and the other sister. We’re kinda a family of anchor-babies…” Lance ate a chunk of rice and chicken thoughtfully, “ _Papa_ works double shift at a car factory, even though the company is going under and almost taken over by machines, _mama_ stays home and takes care of all 5 of her own kids plus my brothers kids so about 8, and everyone has a job working for what they can by the time they're 10 and barely scraping by on the rent even still. But my whole family saw my dreams of coming here to be an engineer and they put everything they had into letting me go here…”

Keith didn't know exactly what to say. “That must be rough.” he echoed.

Lance shrugged and finished off his rice. “Thank you for the food. I’ll make it next time.”


	2. Paella

Keith

Keith’s alarm went off at 5am the next morning. He groggily silenced it and rolled out of bed, it was still dark outside and a cold breeze rolled through the window, He shrugged on a hoodie and stepped out into the chill, pulling a pack of American Spirits out of his pocket. He lit one and took a drag. Exhaling into the morning, he smelled something coming from downstairs, soft clinking and chatting. He ashed the cigarette, leaving a halfer for later and traveled downstairs to see Lance plating some steaming pancakes in front of a Pidge and Hunk. Lance looked up.

“Morning. Pancakes?” Lance gestured to the vacant spot at the table.

“Sure. Oh uh,” Keith sat and Lance laid two chocolate chip pancakes on his plate. “What did you make these with?”

Lance poked the box of mix with his spatula as he began to clean up the kitchen. “That, eggs, and water. Why?”

Keith covered his pancakes in syrup and cut it up, muttering, “Lactose Intolerant.”

“Just like my _abuela_.”

Hunk nudged Pidge and Pidge checked her watch. “Half an hour before class, let's go. Thanks for breakfast Lance!” they picked up their bags and slipped on their shoes waving out the door.

“What about you?” Lance asked, watching Keith eat out of his peripheral as he scrubbed the pan, “When does your class start?”

Keith read the time off the stove, “An hour, photography.” He polished off the pancakes. “You?”

Lance thought about it, “My math lecture doesn't start until 9, so about 3 hours.”

Keith stood up and lance took his plate, “Thanks for the food.” Keith tried to smile like he was more awake than he actually was.

\---

Keith liked to sit at the back of the room in Shiro’s class, it was quiet and nobody really bothered him. The students filed in and Shiro was right behind them. He was young for a professor, and quite a spectacle. His hair was jet black and cut short -but somehow always messy- and he had a tuft of platinum white hair at the front that brushed the pink scar on his straight nose.

He plugged in his camera to the computer and sat on his desk, his white button up and black slacks contributing to his laid back attitude. “Good morning, guys.”

“Morning Prof.” the class droned back.

Shiro took off his glasses and stood again, now pacing the length of the room. “Most of you already know me, but for our fresh new faces, hello! I am Professor Shirogane, but please, Shiro works just fine. You are here because -whether this is your major, or just a fun elective,- you have a passion for photographing life and for some of you select few -Ms. Bishop- choose to photograph death for a living.” Shiro playfully glanced a small red-head who’s freckled face flushed at the sudden spotlight. “I’m here to guide you along the path to success in this class in your college career… And give a few assignments along the way. So let's get started.”  
He picked up his camera and strolled around the classroom. Keith was fiddling with his matte red Instax polaroid camera, not exactly paying attention, but watching the man stroll around the room. The morning Magic Hour light playing with all the colors in the room, turning them warm and bright.

“Now, as photographers, you all have your camera of choice. Some of you have cameras that cost more than my apartments rent, and others have cute little modern polaroids, such as-” Shiro was now by Keiths desk and he scooped the ready camera out of his hands, “Mr. Keith Kogane’s.” He leaned back and lowered himself and snapped a photo of Keith. The flash blinded him for only a second and Shiro plopped the camera back into his hands, but strolled to the front of the room and laid the photo under the projector to let the students watch it develop. “Nice pictures, a little small, but to each their own. Now let’s talk about photography, Alfred Hitchcock famously called film ‘little pieces of time’ but he could be talking about photography, as he likely was…”

Keith wasn't paying attention to the lecture anymore, he just watched the polaroid develop behind Shiro. It was showing up and Keith couldn't find a word to describe it. He was in the side of the photo, his face light with surprise, his hand clutching the invisible camera, his hair soft and tousled, the little deer doodle on his paper was bathed in the golden glow of the sun. Outside the window behind him, a little sea grabe bush grabbed at the southern magnolia tree, and the big student finances office loomed in the very back.

“Keith?”

Keith snapped back and the 100 students and Shiro we're watching him. “I’m sorry, what?”

Shiro smiled, “Can you give me an example of a photographer who perfectly captured the human condition in black and white?”

Keith reddened and quietly answered, “Diane Arbus?”

“Good! Why Arbus?”

“Because of her images of hopeless faces. You feel like, haunted by the eyes of those sad mothers and children. She saw humanity as tortured…” Keith feebly recalled from her autobiography.

“Great view.” Shiro slyly winked at him, making Keith’s stomach sink. He continued his little talk that he had started and talked for nearly half an hour before Shiro checked his watch. “Alright, your first assignment -it’s due at the end of the semester- you must take a photo of someone you call an everyday hero in whatever setting you please. It’s a contest and whoever wins gets their photo hung in a San Francisco Art Museum, and an all expenses paid trip there. Don't just hand something in, let it be something you're proud of!” he waved his hands and the students got up and left. Keith was left buzzed on the competition, and he got up, packing his stuff, but his glass jar of tea moved and fell off the table, shattering and sending perfectly good ginseng tea everywhere. Pidge’s wise words filled Keith’s head _'Visser chaque dernier morceau de ma vie!'_ Fuck every last bit of my life…

Shiro hurried over with paper towels and Keith bent down to help, mopping up the liquid. “I’m really sorry…” Keith murmured.

Shiro merely chuckled. “Happens at least 3 times a week, but it's normally Starbucks.”

They got it all cleaned up, just slight stickiness left. Keith shouldered his bag. “When’s your next class?” he was surprised at the lack of students.

Shiro was washing his hands, “Not until 7 tonight.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Keith was taken aback, “You only have two classes today?”

“Only two classes until next year, and maybe not even then.” Shiro dried his hands, looking out the window, sun shining into his hazel eyes. “Photography isn't very popular anymore… and even the young kids who like to snap pics on their phones think that they're pros. Oh yeah, you took a black and white photo of a flower with a vintage filter, just slap the crema filter on it and post it on Instagram, so deep.” Shiro scoffed a laugh, but he looked sad. “Nobody wants to be criticized on what they do to better themselves anymore, they think they're perfect the way they are. Nobody even comes back for a second semester of this class anymore, Keith… but you? You've taken this class for about 3 years now. You’re one of my best students. My personal favourite…”

Shiro shook his head and moved back to his desk, starting to pack up his own stuff and Keith started walking but then paused and turned back. “If you aren't busy, sir, would you want to go get coffee with me?”

Shiro had closed his messenger bag and looked over at his coffee thermos. He contemplated and finally nodded, smiling. “I’d love to.” and he packed his thermos knowing that it was already full of the offered drink.

Lance

Monet’s was a cute rustic little cafe that catered mostly to middle aged hipsters, but Lance had liked it's charm and constant hum. He already worked as a barista in Texas, so he was ready to go and hired. He started his shift at 10pm after his math lecture and had it fairly easy as all the bloggers tried to be aesthetic and order black coffee that they posed for one photo beside their laptop and hip sunglasses before dumping milk and sugar into their cups. It was a bit of a lull, and he would need to clock out soon to make his AP Physics class, but a familiar face was walking into the cafe, escorted by a rather young guy, perhaps only 25 years old. He was tall, and nicely built, nearly towering over Keith at about 6 foot. Keith caught Lances eye and a look of surprise crossed his face. He whispered to the other guy and he sat down at the table near the out of tune -but beautifully painted- piano. Keith dug his wallet out of the pocket of his joggers and stalked up to the counter.

“What are you doing here?” Keith asked a little bitterly.

Lance couldn't help but snark him back, “Running for Mayor, want a button?” Lance waved an imaginary flag, “I work here, _tonto_. Who’s Mr. Muscle?”

Keith rolled his eyes, but his action seemed a little forced, “He’s my photography professor, Shiro.”

“You chose a pretty cute place for a date. What do you guys want?” Lance teased.

“Americano and an iced chocolate mocha. And this is not a date.” Keith slapped the money on the counter. “He’s just looking through my portfolio.”

Lance started the order and grinned, “Is that a euphemism?” Keith groaned, hitting his head on the counter. “Sorry, _Cuervo_ , I‘ll bring it over in a bit.”

Keith walked away, his pastel purple t-shirt standing out against the dark wood cafe. Keith didn't know much spanish, he only understood the stuff his earlier foster families taught him, so he knew that ‘tonto’ meant dummy, but he couldn't guess _cuervo_. He sat down and Shiro was flipping through his portfolio thoughtfully, pausing at the two pages of Belle in different situations, most of them involving plants and flowers.

“Hey, Professor?”

Shiro didn't look up, “Shiro works fine, we’re out of the classroom.”

“Right,” Keith fidgeted with his napkin, “Do you speak Spanish?”

“That and 3 other languages excluding English, why?” Shiro flipped to the photos of Keith’s ex, glad that their face was dark or blurry in all of them.

“What is _cuervo_?”

Shiro shrugged, “It just means ‘raven’ or really ‘black bird’ but i believe the person was referencing your hair or body language.” Shiro gestured to the photos, “These are… exquisite, Keith. May I ask who the person is?”  
Keith almost laughed, he could honestly tell Shiro their name, their eye color, the way their nose curved perfectly, how their hair fell when they layed with him and the very shade of otheir freckles on their skin but Keith simply answered, “I can't remember, it was a long time ago…” 3 years and two months.

Shiro nodded, “‘But what are names when you have photos of the very soul’”. He quoted a photographer that Keith very much looked up to, but she had died young.

Lance showed up with drinks in hand, “Sorry for the wait, Americano?” Shiro took it from Lance with a grateful smile. “And the iced mocha for Keith -with almond milk.” He set it down in front of him and hurried off to a hipster demanding a refill.

“You know him?” Shiro asked, emptying a packet of sugar into his cup and sipping.

“One of my three new roomies, Lance. He’s a freshman, studying to be an engineer.”

Shiro’s attention was drawn outside. “Rain.” Shiro tisked, “It's was supposed to be beautiful today…”

“I like rain.” Keith sipped his mocha, wishing he had instead got something hot as he felt the drink work with the chilly breeze coming in the window.

“Not when you walk home a half-mile.” Shiro swore under his breath.

Keith looked outside. “My car is just on the other side of the road, if you want I could give you a ride?” He glanced Shiro from under his eyelashes.  
Shiro’s smile grew, “If you wouldn't mind.”

“Not at all.”

Keith and Shiro finished off their drinks and headed outside, jackets over their heads, running for Keith’s distinguishable Road Runner. Lance watched from the counter and nodded in respect.

 

Lance cleaned up the kitchen, clearing away all the plastic bags from the store. He had finally made the run after Pidge accidentally drank spoiled milk and Hunk’s Mac ‘n Cheese was so stale it wouldn't even cook. The kitchen was now stocked with fresh fruits, vegetables, and frozen dinners, lots of snacks, and better herbs and spices and Lance was brainstorming dinner ideas.

The front door opened and the sound of rain followed Keith in.

“Shoes off at the door, please.” Lance called. “I just cleaned the floors and i don't want muddy water on them just yet.”

Keith kicked off his Adidas and left them on the shoe-mat, “Yes mom.” Lance heard Keith run upstairs and come back with a towel on his head. “You making dinner too?”

Lance shrugged, “I just re-stocked the kitchen, I might as well.” He looked up a recipe. “Have you ever tried paella?”

Lance saw Keith’s jaw drop, “Only once, it. Was. Amazing.”

Lance turned to the fridge and grabbed some stuff, “Paella it is. You want to be my helper?”

Keith pulled his hair back into a stubby little pony tail and stepped into the kitchen, “What can I do?”

Lance produced two raw chicken breasts and began to slice them up, “Grab the olive oil, paprika, oregano, and the salt and pepper to start.”

Keith followed Lances instructions and carefully helped when told. The prep was about 30 minutes, and cooking took another 30. Lance amused Keith with stories of his family and Keith traded some stories of trouble he got into with various brothers and sisters and when they we're finally done, Lance started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Keith demanded, Lance having to set down the paella pan.

Lance stood straight and wiped Keith’s cheekbone and pulling away, there was yellow sauce on Lances finger. “This has been on your cheek since we put in the rice 45 minutes ago.”

Keith wiped his cheek again and the last of it came off. “WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?”

Lance broke into more laughter, “I only saw one side of your face this entire time!”

Keith rolled his eyes and Pidge and Hunk came upstairs in their pajamas. “Hey it's too fun up here, settle down kiddo’s.” Pidge was smiling though.

“Sorry.” Lance grabbed some bowls, “Want some paella?”

Pidge was almost trampled by Hunk as he bolted past for the food. They ate over chatters of school. Pidge was there as an animation major, Hunk there for fashion design, and Keith was a photography major. They all traded social medias and laughed at each others posts, the random memes on Lances account, the korean model aesthetic of Keiths mirror OOTD mirror selfies, Hunks sewing mishaps, and Pidges half-assed anger doodles in between the fully done pieces of work. It was a fun night, and they all had to stagger to their beds when they realised it was almost 2 am.

Lance and Keith had a hard time getting up the stairs after Lance had tripped on his way up and in their loopy states couldn't find a reason to stop laughing until Lance sobered up and tried to be serious -which sparked another laughing fit from Keith.

They finally got up the stairs and they fell into their rooms, Lance actually falling on the floor. Keith giggled at him and he just rolled onto his side.

" _Buenos noches, Cuevo_." Lance sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright so yes dont attack me i used some dialogue from Life is Strange for this bc honestly idk what goes on in photography classes in college so *shrugs into oblivion*


End file.
